


Skype

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [164]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Skype

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

"Hey," Ryan says, a delighted grin spreading across his face as soon as Sam answers his phone. "You alone?" 

"Yeah. Just putting the dishes in the washer," Sam says, grinning widely. So fucking happy to hear from Ryan. Especially knowing it's only days now before he has him back again. "How're you doing?"

"I am fantastic," Ryan answers, hopping lightly up to sit on the kitchen counter. "It's Friday night and Aidan and Mitchell have serious cabin fever. Know what that means?"

"You're gonna shoot them and come home early?" Sam says, eyes sparkling.

"You-- hey, wow. I didn't even think of that," Ryan says, pretending to weigh the relative merits of the idea. "Actually it means they both went on the pull in town, and I was thinking maybe we could try that Skype sex thing you were telling me about." He laughs.

Fuck yeah. Sam grins. "You got your laptop handy?" he asks, going back out to the living room and settling on the couch, his laptop pulled up in front of him. 

"Yeah." Ryan jogs upstairs and flips the lid up on his Vaio, already waiting on his bed. He boots up Skype, excitement rushing through his veins. "You want to call me?"

"Yeah. Give me a couple minutes," Sam says, hanging up, although he probably won't even need that, his laptop booting up quickly. He starts up Skype and calls Ryan, smiling when his lover appears on the screen. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey you." Ryan's answering smile is wide and delighted, dimple flashing. "God, you look good. I miss you so fucking much." But seeing Sam actually eases the bone-deep ache for the moment.

"Not as much as I miss you," Sam says with a grin, but Christ, it seems like forever since he's seen Ryan. Since he's held his boy in his arms, fucked him until he screamed. "You almost done there?"

"Yes, Sir." Ryan nods, still grinning. "Day after tomorrow, and I'm back on a plane." Back to Sam, exactly where he should be. "I see you haven't starved yet?"

"Thanks to the meals you left me," Sam says, unable to stop smiling at Ryan. Fuck, he looks so good. "I don't suppose you have any toys there?"

"God, no," Ryan answers, looking incredulous. "And risk these guys finding them? I've been acting so straight this week I probably even _taste_ vanilla." He'd never been worried about being outed before, but that was before he started traveling the world as Sam's 'personal assistant,' always by his lover's side. Now he's constantly aware of how things might look.

Sam laughs. "Fair enough," he says, "but I want you to go find something you can fuck yourself with. Something a decent size."

Ryan's eyes widen, but he's already deep in thought. "Give me a minute," he tells his lover, and jogs downstairs to the kitchen. He opens the pantry, swiftly scanning the contents, then turns to the refrigerator. The cucumber he finds is long and thick, and he's careful to wash it with dish soap before thoroughly rinsing. Bolting back upstairs, he locks his bedroom door behind him and settles on the bed again. He grins at Sam's image and holds up the cuke.

Fuck. That is one huge fucking vegetable. "Good boy," Sam says, his approval clear in his smile. "Now let's see you get naked."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan answers, his grin full of boyish excitement. He stands to the side of the bed as he wriggles out of his clothing, but he's careful to throw a few items past the vid pick-up so that Sam will know he's obeying. Nude right down to his bare feet, he sits in front of his laptop again.

"Are you prepped?" Sam asks, letting one hand slide from his thigh to his cock, stroking slowly through his jeans.

"No, Sir," Ryan answers, and lays a small bottle of lubricant on the table that he's been hiding in his shaving kit. He grins. "Didn't know I was going to be seeing you."

Sam laughs. "Fair enough," he says. "But you can do it now. Give your sir a show."

"Yes, Sir." Ryan turns and kneels up, presenting his ass to the webcam. "Can you see? Is it a good angle?" he asks, checking over his shoulder.

"It's fucking brilliant," Sam says, groaning as his eyes lock on Ryan's hole, his cock throbbing again, aching to be inside his boy.

Shivers race down Ryan's spine at that groan, and he grins as he spills lube onto his fingers. He goes down onto his left arm and reaches back with his right, pushing two slippery fingers into his dry hole with a tiny wince.

It reminds Sam of Ryan fisting himself and he groans again, freeing his cock from his jeans and giving it a few rough strokes. "That's it, boy. Open yourself up," he orders.

"Yes, Sir," Ryan whispers, spreading his fingers wide. Other than this anomaly of him being away from Sam for ten days, prepping himself is an automatic part of his day, pure routine, detached from lust. But this... Ryan shudders and pushes a third finger in, unable to help the quick hitch of his hips back. Knowing that Sam is watching him sets him on fire, arousing him in an instant. "Please," he begs over his shoulder, and twists all four fingers together, pushing them all the way in. "Please, Sir."

"Please what, boy?" Sam demands, breath catching hard, his eyes locked on those fingers, on the way Ryan's body opens up to take them.

"Please let me fuck myself, Sir. For you," Ryan adds breathlessly.

Sam nods. "Do it," he orders.

Ryan picks up the cucumber and slicks one end, trying to make sure he has as solid a grip as possible on the other end. When he presses the tip to his hole he doesn't hesitate, just bears down and pushes hard and then yells as the girth suddenly increases.

Fuck. Sam groans, his cock throbbing violently in his grasp. "C'mon, yeah, that's it. Fuck that hole, boy..."

Slowly Ryan works the cucumber deeper, until it reaches the midpoint where it's actually a tiny bit thicker than Sam's cock. He moans, beginning to fuck himself, each thrust rocking him forward on his knees. God, this is wrong. He's been penetrated with all sorts of crazy stuff before, sure, but it's never been his hands doing the dirty work. He can feel a flush of shamed awareness spreading over his body.

"God, you're such a dirty slut for this," Sam says, stroking his cock in rhythm with Ryan's thrusts. "Such a dirty fucking slut with the greediest hole I've ever seen..."

Ryan whimpers under his breath and fucks himself faster, filling himself again and again. It's _cold_ , god, fresh from the fridge, and the bumpy skin just feels fucking weird. "Sir..." he begs.

"Sir what?" Sam grins. He's not there to torment Ryan in person so he'll have to settle for pushing harder from here. "Use your words, boy."

"Oh god, Sir," Ryan moans. He doesn't even know what to beg for. _Fuck me harder? Please let me come for this cucumber?_ He whimpers and changes his angle, crying out at the harsh rub to his prostate. "Please, Sir, please! Let me come for you!"

Sam nods. "No touching your cock. If you can come with that up your ass, you've got permission, but don't you dare touch your cock," he growls softly, gripping himself tighter and stroking his swollen flesh with a brutal intensity.

Digging his nails into the flesh of the cucumber, Ryan presses his chest flat to the bed and reaches back with his other hand to spread his cheeks wider. A twist of the cuke, then he slams it in deep and screams, coming hot all over his bedspread and reeling from the pain.

Holy shit. Sam shouts, twisting his hand roughly around his cock, his orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks.

His cheek pressed to the pillow, Ryan pants for breath. He feels so damn tired all of a sudden, and he whimpers when he pulls the cucumber out, feeling it stretch his muscles for a last time. Slowly, carefully, he turns around to sit cross-legged in front of his laptop, completely ignoring the wet spot.

"Good boy," Sam says, wiping his hand on his jeans. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

"Mmm." Ryan braces his elbow on his knee and sets his chin in his hand. "Miss you," he murmurs, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "And I don't think I'll be eating any salad tomorrow."

Sam laughs. "Yeah? What about Aidan and Mitchell?"

"Dude, they're not _that_ irritating," Ryan says, barking a laugh.

"You sure about that?" Sam says, really laughing now. 

"Watch out, or you're going to get yourself all nervous next time I make you dinner," Ryan snickers. He reaches out to the laptop screen like he can touch his lover. "You've got the sexiest fucking laugh in the world, you know that?"

Sam ducks his head a little. "I know I've got the sexiest fucking boy in the world," he says softly.

Ryan bites his bottom lip, feeling his face heat up. "Two days," he whispers. "I--" he abruptly breaks off and looks over his shoulder towards the window. "Shit. The guy's sold millions of albums, you'd think he could carry a tune even when he's drunk... I have to go."

"Okay." Sam nods, silently cursing both Aidan and Mitchell. "I love you."

"I love you," Ryan replies, his gaze tracing every line and curve of Sam's face. "I'll be home soon." It's true: home for Ryan is wherever Sam is.


End file.
